


Romance (frerard)

by Princessmawy



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Pencey Prep, frnkiero andthe cellabration, frnkiero andthe patience
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Artist!Gerard - Freeform, Daddy Gerard Way, Daddy Kink, Dom Gerard Way, Dom/sub, Frerard, High School, M/M, My First Fanfic, Pencey Prep - Freeform, Pining, Student Frank Iero, Sub Frank, Sub Frank Iero, Teacher Gerard Way, Teacher-Student Relationship, dom gerard, teacher!gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7003894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princessmawy/pseuds/Princessmawy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is Mr. Way's teacher's aide and he makes it his mission to make Mr. Way his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever. I think it will get better later. I'm hella busy with AP classes and college applications, so don't expect frequent updates. Thanks for reading it anyway.

I awoke to the moist feeling of a wet tongue caressing my face and the pungent smell of dog breath.

“Morning, Sweet Pea,” I groaned, gently pushing the small dog away and rolling over to check the time.

The too-bright screen read:  **7:00AM**

It was far too early for me to be up and about. But, then I remembered the date. Today was August 16 th . Today was the first day of my senior year. I had been waiting for this for so long and now that it was here I was smiling my damn ass off.

You see, my senior year was going to be a breeze. I was taking the easiest core classes I could manage plus one hour each of music and art, and two whole hours of teacher-aiding for Mr. Way (score!). I had had Mr. Way for English both my sophomore and junior year and we had gotten pretty familiar with one another. Of course I would never admit it to anyone else, but I had the HUGEST crush on the guy since that first day of sophomore English, so I was definitely looking forward to spending more time with him as an assistant rather than a student. Not to mention I actually really liked English. But, maybe that was just because Mr. Way taught it.

There was just something about him that drove me crazy. It wasn’t just his sexy ass, or his gorgeous hazel eyes, or the fact that we shared a lot of interests. It was something in the way he spoke about his favorite books, the way he always got so caught up in the moment talking about the things that he loved, totally abandoning whatever point he had meant to be making. It was in the way the sunlight reflected off of his dyed-black hair, the way that same raven hair fell into his face sometimes and he would do the cutest little head toss to get it out of the way. The way his--

**BZZZZZZZ**

My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts and into the present. It was my best friend, Ray.

“GUESS WHAT FRANKIE ?!”

I replied with a quick question of what, already knowing the answer. Ray texted back immediately.

“WE’RE SENIORS FRANKIE !!”

“lol I know, man. 1 more year and then we’re out,” I replied, just now starting to actually get ready.

I tossed my phone in my school bag, threw on a Black Flag t-shirt, a red plaid flannel, my favorite pair of torn jeans, and quickly lined my eyes with a black eyeliner pencil (It was the first day of school. I had to at least look semi-decent). Then, I sped out the door to school, shouting a simple goodbye to my mother on the way. 

I met Ray at school and we talked for a while before parting  ways to go to our separate classes.

I was sitting in chemistry listening to Mrs. Armstrong drone on about lab safety when I started doodling. It wasn’t long until I was completely zoned out and in three places at once. My body was in class, my hands were on the pencil, and my mind was somewhere else.

And then the bell rang.

I looked down and realized what I had drawn, shoving it in my bag immediately out of embarrassment. It was a drawing of Mr. Way. I hadn’t seen him all summer and I was starting to get a little antsy. I just wanted to go to his classroom and see his beautiful face again. Oh god. What would Ray say if he found out how I was feeling? Or worse, who I was feeling it for? Ray had just recently found out about me being gay and, although he took it well and tried to be supportive, he really didn’t seem to understand. He still tried setting me up with girls (and the occasional guy) every chance he got. Like, at lunch for instance.

“Come on, man. She’s hot!” Ray begged. “Okay, how about that guy over there? Pink hair. Next to the dude with the hat.”

“Pete? He’s in my music class. I’m going to say no, but congratulations. I think he’s the first guy you’ve picked out that’s actually gay.”

Ray rolled his eyes at that comment. But, then his face lit up like my grandparents’ house on Christmas.

“Oh my god, speaking of being gay,” he began. “I heard that Jessica Lake saw Mr. Way at the mall over the summer with some guy. Word is she saw them kiss and everything. Can you believe that?!”

I froze in my seat, unable to respond. Mr. Way? Gay? Could this be true? If it was did that mean this guy at the mall was his boyfriend? I had so many questions. I couldn’t believe it. Of course I had always wondered. But, I never really allowed myself to hope. I knew I would be disappointed. Now, however, I was filled with joy and conviction. If Mr. Way was gay, that meant that I had a chance with him, however small that chance was. I had to go for it. If Ray wanted me to find someone so badly, then that’s what I was going to do. I wasn’t just going to get any boyfriend though. I was going to get Mr. Way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First class with Gerard.

My two hours with Mr. Way began directly after lunch and I could barely contain my excitement as I stepped into room 201 for the first time since May.

The small plants near the window looked healthy and well-watered and the windows were wide open, allowing sunshine to fill the classroom. Mr. Way stood with his back to me, wiping off the whiteboard. I couldn't help but admire his figure, especially his perfect ass in those tight pants he always wore. I guess he heard me walk in because he suddenly dropped what he was doing and turned to face me.

“Frank!” He exclaimed, his smile sending waves of butterflies through my stomach.

“M-Mr. Way, Hi!” I couldn’t help but smile too when I saw him.

He reached out his hands and brought me in for a hug, giving me all the affection I had missed over the summer. He smelled, like he always did, of coffee and cigarettes and old library books. It was a smell I had come to love. I tried to hold on and savour the moment for as long as humanly possible. But, of course, it had to end. Mr. Way pulled back and continued the conversation.

“It’s nice to see you again. How was your break? Oh, and how does it feel to be a senior?” He asked.

“Honestly, it feels great. I think this year’s gonna be pretty chill.”

“Well, don’t get too relaxed. I still need you to do work in here,” he responded with a giggle. Damn, his laugh was adorable. “Would you mind picking up the books from last hour for me? I guess the freshman haven’t learned how to clean up after themselves yet.”

“You’re the one making them read on their very first day of high school,” I teased as I began to walk toward the desks. When I picked up the first book, I immediately recognized the title. “Oh man, Catcher in the Rye? How come you didn’t let us read this?”

“I don’t know, man. It’s part of my new lesson plan. Besides, I didn’t even work here,” he said, turning back to the whiteboard to write something.

“Yeah, well it’s one of my favorite books. It uh... always has been.” I said shyly and Mr. Way gave me another one of his extraordinarily bright smiles.   
  


“Mine, too. Salinger’s a damn good writer. I think he captures Holden’s inner struggle really well, you know?”

“Yeah, for sure. I’ve always been able to relate to Holden.”

“Same,” he said excitedly. Great, so we’re both depressed assholes.

Just then, the bell rang and his next class started to filter in. They were sophomores and let’s just say I didn’t take the job as teacher’s aide because I liked kids. As If Mr. Way could sense my discomfort, he came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder, giving me his signature shy smile.

“I forgot I was supposed to make copies of this during class change. Could you do it for me?”

I took the paper and sped out of the room. I mean, come on, how could I say no to those beautiful hazel eyes?

The trip to the copy room was uneventful. Upon returning, I opened the door and stepped into the classroom as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Mr. Way’s teaching (and arguably also to not be noticed by the students)

I wasn’t exactly sure what Mr. Way was talking about when I walked into the room, but he was getting excited. I had to smile at how adorable he was. Listening to Mr. Way discuss something he was passionate about was one of my favorite things. The way his eyes lit up and his hands just went crazy, his Jersey accent getting just the slightest bit more noticeable. He really was a great teacher and I couldn’t help but think that he’s probably great in bed too, not that I would ever get to find out. Oh God, I was cursed to be a hopeless romantic forever. I mean, it wasn’t like I wanted to feel the way I did about the guy. He just made me so happy and when I saw him speaking so passionately about something he cared about, it gave a me a glimmer of hope that maybe he would talk about me like that someday. What can I say? When I fall, I fall hard.

“...and speaking of things that inspire me, here’s our teacher’s aide, Mr. Frank Iero.”

What? Me?

I blushed more than I had in a long time as I moved to join Mr. Way at the front of the room, rubbing my neck in embarrassment.

“Don’t be shy, honey. Introduce yourself,” Mr. Way whispered in my ear as he quickly retreated back to his desk, leaving me alone at the front of the room, my stomach buzzing with butterflies for more than one reason.

He had called me ‘honey’. There’s no way he could have known how much that meant to me. How I would spend the rest of the class thinking about it instead of paying attention.

~

Between classes I approached Mr. Way to ask why he had made me speak in front of the class when he knew it made me uncomfortable.

“Because,” he began. “I’m your mentor.”

“My mentor?”

“Yes, and I want to teach you more than just how to bullshit your way through the AP exam or how to understand classic literature. English isn’t just reading and writing. It’s speaking too and I don’t want to leave you without that part of your education. Most kids can’t tolerate me for one year, let alone three. I want to make it worth your while.”

I raised my eyebrow at him in disbelief. That wasn’t the whole truth. I knew there was more I just didn’t know what it was.

“Okay, you also look kinda cute when you’re terrified.”

Cute? Like, cute baby you see in the grocery store cute or like, cute boy you stare at in math class cute? What is he trying to say? Oh my god.

My face must have been showing my emotions (I really need to work on that) because he just laughed it off.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he said. But, something about it didn’t sound totally genuine.

~

The next class went similar to the first. Sophomores again. Public speaking again. Mr. Way and I made eye contact a few times during class, but it was mainly just him catching me staring. There was something different about our relationship this year. I guessed it was because I was no longer technically his student. But, as my self-proclaimed ‘mentor’ he would probably disagree with that fact. Whether what happened that day was flirting or not, I wasn’t sure, but I honestly didn’t care as long as he didn’t start calling me his ‘pupil’ or some shit like that. Either way, I left his classroom feeling confident.

Of course, I was still worried about this mystery man in his life. But, I couldn’t ask him about it. I decided I had to confront Jessica if I wanted to know the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I took longer than expected to update. Thanks for reading !!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica

“Okay, I may have exaggerated a tiny bit. It was only a kiss on the cheek, but I swear it was gay! I could literally see the sexual tension!” Great. Back to square one. Mr. Way may or may not be gay. The world may never know.

“Ughh. Jessica, are you sure you didn’t just imagine this so called ‘sexual tension’. Are you sure it wasn’t just something you wish you saw?”

“Hey! I may have a thing for gay guys, but that doesn’t change what I saw. Mr. Way was there with this tall skinny guy. Dirty blond. Glasses. And Mr. Way kissed him on the cheek.”

“Fine. I believe you. If I give you twenty bucks will you promise not to tell anyone I asked about it?”

“Make it fifty and my lips are sealed.”

I gave her the fifty. The thing about Jessica was although she had a big mouth, you could pay her off to do pretty much anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little tiny baby chapter lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothing exciting, sorry

It’s been a week. I’ve made virtually no progress toward wooing Mr. Way. I’m much too afraid to confront him about the rumor and I was never very good at flirting.

I’ve mostly been grading papers.

One day I was grading a multiple choice worksheet. The answers read: D A  D C A C. I got sick of looking at the key so I memorized the answers and said them in my head like, “dad cack”

Dad cack, dad cack, dad cack…

I began to let my mind wander. Dad cack almost sounded like dad cock. I wondered what Mr. Way’s cock looked like. His ass was so nice that I figured his cock must be too. I wondered if he’d ever let me call him daddy…oh god.

Of course that train of thought resulted in my getting a boner and having to very awkwardly excuse myself to go to the restroom.

When I wasn’t grading papers I was advising students, helping them with their work, reading or just watching Mr. Way. That was my favorite part of class. Watching him. Thinking about him. Being near him. Anything involving him.

One day Mr. Way’s room was being cleaned or whatever so they kicked him out and he had to each lunch with the students. He looked totally lost as he strolled into the chaos that is the school cafeteria.

“Hey, what’s Mr. Way doing in here ?” said Ray, looking over my shoulder. I turned around and sure enough, there he stood, looking confused and alone. I waved my arm, trying to get his attention, and it worked. We made eye contact across the room and I gestured for him to come our direction.

“Frank, what are you doing ? You never let people sit at our table,” said Ray, looking panicked.

“Don’t worry man, Mr. Way’s cool. It’s not gonna be an everyday thing,” I said, secretly hoping that what I said wasn't true and that it did become an everyday thing.

“Is this seat taken ?” asked Mr. Way, making a small gesture toward the chair beside mine.

“It’s all yours.”

I blushed like a schoolgirl as he sat down next to me. Ray looked at me a little funny, but continued telling his story right where he had left off before Mr. Way had entered the lunchroom.

Mr. Way seemed decently interested, despite missing nearly the whole first half of what had happened. I wasn’t listening though. My eyes and ears were fixed on Mr. Way. I couldn’t stop staring at the way he laughed, or the way the sunlight shone off his crazy mop of black hair.

“Stop staring at me” he mouthed as he turned to me, his face breaking into a smile. I chewed my lip and looked down, feeling my face flush. When I looked back up, he was still grinning like a kid in a candy store, and I couldn’t help but smile back. 

Jesus Christ – that man was driving me crazy. 


	5. Chapter 5

It’s been a month and I still have no definitive proof of Mr. Way’s sexuality. I did find out his first name though and I’ve lowkey been doodling hearts that say “Frank + Gerard” for the past week. Calling him Gerard makes me feel like we might really have a chance, like he’s not living in a totally separate world, ten unreachable years ahead of me. Of course I would never call him that to his face. I respect Mr. Way too much to use his first name without permission.

This week had been the first week that Mrs. Hood had moved on from teaching concepts and let her art students actually paint. I had been waiting patiently for this since the class began, although now that it was here I was finding the assignment somewhat challenging. We were supposed to take something we loved and paint it in a negative light. The next week we would do the opposite. Originally, I had wanted to paint a portrait of Gerard. The issue was that I couldn’t find any negative aspects to highlight. Not only that, but I obviously couldn’t make the picture recognizably Mr. Way without attracting some seriously unwanted attention to myself. I was beginning to work on changing the subject to my guitar when the bell rang for lunch. Ray was skipping today due to a doctor’s appointment (lame) so I decided to step outside for a smoke instead of staying the the cafeteria.

I walked into Mr. Way’s classroom and headed straight for my seat, not really in the mood to face a room of rowdy students. Gerard strolled in soon after, greeting both the class and myself.

“Hey Frank, how ya doin?” he asked.

“Good, you?” I looked up and saw that he had on a crooked smile, but the smile slowly turned into a confused expressed as he met my gaze.

“Is that...paint in your hair?”

“Oh shit,” I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, trying to brush it out or hide it or something dumb like that. “Yeah, I get kinda messy in art sometimes.”

And with that, he began his lecture for the day.

I wasn’t staring longingly at him as frequently as usual that day, so it took me about ten minutes to notice his intermittent glances my way. Was he looking at me because of the paint? Why would he care about that? Maybe he likes art. Maybe he hates it. I took out my sketchbook and started to mess around.

Before I knew it, my two periods with Mr. Way had passed and I was still sitting there drawing. I only broke out of my trance when I heard someone clear their throat. It was Mr. Way.

“I didn’t know you were artistic, Frank.”

“Oh yeah, I um. I guess I got a little caught up with the drawing,” I said, stumbling to put up my sketchbook and pencils. “I’m really stressing about this painting I gotta do. I love art and stuff, but it takes more work than I thought it would. Music just comes so much more naturally for me.”

He pulled up a chair next to me. “Well, if you’re anywhere near as good at art as you are at music, I think I would really like to see some of your work.”

I recalled one day last school year when our music teacher, Mr. Charles had been called away suddenly and Mr. Way had filled in during his planning period. We had been performing original compositions for the class that day and Gerard had said mine was very impressive. I didn’t think he had meant much by that and I definitely didn't think he would have remembered it.

I turned away to hide my blush. “I don’t want to show you. They’re not very good.”  
  
“C’mon. I’m sure they’re breathtaking.” Mr. Way placed his hand on my shoulder.  
  
“Fine. I’ll show you, just don’t expect Monet or anything”

I pulled out my book and reluctantly slid it across the table.

I watched intently as Mr. Way carefully flipped one of the pages, and another, and another, thankful I hadn’t been using the one filled with drawings of him. My sketchbooks are like my personal journals, my own fucking diaries. I had song lyrics and poems in there, photographs I had taken shoved between pages of detailed pencil drawings and silly cartoon doodles. I couldn't believe I was showing Mr. Way. I was so nervous, my mouth instinctively tried to calm me down by talking.

“There’s um—there’s lots of different stuff in there, but I think the stuff i’m best at is here in the back,” I pointed. “I like to design tattoos. They’re mostly new school style so they’re kinda out there. Not for everyone. But I really like ‘em, so I guess it doesn’t matter what other people think.”

I was waiting with baited breath for a reaction. Any reaction. He hated them. I knew it. There was no way he would take this long to say something if he wasn’t making up a lie about how thought they were really good. “Unique”. That’s what people say when they actually hate something, but they don’t want to be rude.

His reaction, though it took so long I thought I might implode, was a pleasant surprise.

“Frank, I had no idea.” He smiled as he continued to look at the last few pages. “These are amazing. They’re absolutely beautiful. The use of color here is—Look, I know I usually stress the importance of going to a four year college and getting a sensible degree and all that shit, pardon my language, but have you considered art school?”

“Art School? Don’t you think that’s a little too fancy for me?” Honestly, I didn't even want to go to a regular college. Sure I was applying, but I was really betting on getting my band signed soon and doing that for a living.

He hesitated before he formed his response, pondering. Then, he glanced at the clock behind me.

“You’re late for seventh hour. I’ll write you a note,” he said, handing me my sketchbook back. “But, would you be able to stay after school for a few minutes? I’d like to show you something.”

What could he possibly want to show me? The possibilities racing through my head combined with the entrancing effect his eyes had on me almost made me forget to answer his question.

“Y-yeah of course I could stay for a bit. I’ll just text Ray and tell him I’ll be a little late to practice.”

“Great,” he replied, flashing me the most dazzling smile in all of existence ever. “See you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AP Lit is death. I should have more time to write next semester. At least I hope so.


	6. Chapter 6

Seventh period felt like it took days as a stared blankly at the board in front of me. Anticipation raced through my system. What could he possibly want to show me?

I liked Mr. Way more than was good for me and I knew that. I hadn’t had a crush like this since the eighth grade when I was in love with the captain of the soccer team. I had come to see one of the games to cheer him on and afterwards I had finally built up enough courage to ask him out, but it didn’t exactly go as planned. He laughed in my face and outed me to the entire school. It was a Catholic school, so when the rumors finally made their way to the administration a few weeks later, I was kicked out and had to transfer to Belleville Middle. My mom was upset at first, but she had always known I was gay and it was my dad who had wanted me to go to the Catholic school in the first place. Ever since the divorce my mom has kinda let me do my own thing.

Anyway, that was why I never really acted on my feelings toward Mr. Way. I was so afraid of rejection, especially from someone I cared so much about. Not to mention I would have to see him for two hours every day no matter the outcome. I had thought it best to just lay low until my chances seemed better. Now though, he wanted to show me something after school. That had to mean that he at least liked me significantly more than any of his other students. Unless it was something stupid like stuff for college. Maybe he did this for all of his seniors. I didn’t know what it was I just felt as if it was something special. And I really couldn’t wait to find out.

As I waited for Mr. Way’s seventh hour class to leave and entered the classroom, my nerves were eating away at my stomach. I had texted Ray and told him I’d be staying after to help Mr. Way with something for his class tomorrow, which wasn’t a total lie so I didn’t feel too bad about it. Still, lying to Ray didn’t feel very good.

“Hey, Frankie,” I heard Gerard say as I approached his desk. “Just let me finish this up real quick. You can put your stuff down wherever.”

I did as I was told, setting my bag down on a nearby desk and sitting in the chair behind it.

Mr. Way finished typing on his computer and looked up at me with a coy smile. He then stood up and walked toward the back of the room, gesturing for me to follow. When we reached the supply closet in the back right corner he turned to face me.

“Close your eyes,” he said with excitement clear in his voice.

“Close my eyes? I’ve got to say, most kidnappers would opt for a blindfold or chloroform rather than the trust of their victims.”

“Just do it,” he said. I giggled and closed my eyes like he had asked.

I didn’t need my sight to know that he was unlocking the door to the closet and leading me inside. What could possibly be so great inside a storage closet?

“Okay, now open.”

I opened my eyes to see the least storage-closet-like storage closet I had ever seen. It was like an entire art studio and gallery squeezed into a tiny room no more than six or seven feet wide. Every inch of the room’s four walls was covered in art, whether it was a painting, a pencil drawing, a comic strip (there were lots of comic strips), or an album cover. There was even a tapestry covering the entire back wall. The ceiling was covered in christmas lights and draped with thin, colorful fabrics to make it seem more light and open. It was beautiful.

“It’s not much, but I thought you might enjoy it.” 

“It’s amazing.”

“This is my little mini studio. My safe space when work is too stressful and I can’t drive home. I go here during most lunches to hide from my responsibilities and just listen to music or paint.”

“It seems so personal,” I said, walking around to get a better view of the place. I was in complete awe. “Why would you show this to me?”

“You showed me something. I owed it you to show you something as well. You said you were having some trouble with art, so I figured—I mean if you wanted to—you could come in here and maybe it could help you focus or give you inspiration.”

“You’d really let me work in here? In your private space?” I couldn’t believe it.

“Of course. I care about you.” Mr. Way was looking down at me with a small smile. My cheeks warmed up and I couldn’t help biting on my lip a little as I felt his fingers softly caressing the side of my hand. Teachers don't usually do that, do they?

“I- uh,” I could hardly breathe. I wanted to savor this moment forever and ever. But, before I could really say anything he moved away.

“Look, I just—I wanted to go to art school when I was your age. I settled for a visual art minor, and don’t get me wrong I love my job, but I just can’t help wondering what would have been different if I hadn’t gotten an English degree. I want you to be able to explore whatever kinds of things you want to do. If that’s art, then great. You can come here and do that. If not, that’s fine. Just, y’know, It’s here if you need it.”

“Thanks,” my face lit up with a huge smile. He did care about me.

“You should probably get going. Your friends will be wondering why you’re late,” he said solemnly.

I felt my brain spinning and my stomach churning. I had no idea what had just happened, but I knew I didn’t want it to end. Despite that, I had to agree. The band would be waiting.

“y-yeah, I guess.” I grabbed his hand in mine. “Really though. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

And with that, I left the magical secret art closet, picked up my backpack, left the classroom, and pinched myself to make sure everything that had just happened was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Break = Productivity


	7. Chapter 7

I knew what had happened between us was basically nothing, but in that moment it was everything. I would have given anything to kiss Mr. Way just then. That’s why I had to leave. I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly. I got to the door to the practice room, organizing my thoughts and running my fingers through my hair before going in. Nobody needed to know what was going on in my love life. Especially when the majority of it was in my imagination.

Our band was called Pencey Prep and we usually practiced in Ray’s parents’ basement. It was really nice of them to let us do that since their house was definitely not soundproof. The band consists of Ray as the lead guitarist, Shaun on keyboard, Bob on drums, our bassist John, and myself as rhythm guitarist and lead vocalist. Ray and I are the youngest and the only two still in highschool. Shaun is works at the local comic shop, John is in college, and Bob is taking a gap year. We were getting ready for a gig we had this weekend. I wondered if it would be too weird to invite Mr. Way. Most of practice went by in a blur except for when Ray came over to me in between songs while everyone was fiddling with their instruments.

“You seem kinda distant. You okay?”

“What? Oh yeah. Totally. Just tired, y’know?”

"You sure?"

“Yeah. I’m great actually,” I replied, still thinking about what had happened earlier today with Mr. Way.

About half way through practice, Kelly walks in. Kelly’s Bob’s girlfriend who comes to watch us sometimes. She cheers for bob, runs up and kisses him as soon as the song is over. I used to think that shit was annoying and gross, but now I was just jealous. I just wanted to do that with Gerard, but I knew I couldn’t. I spent the rest of practice wanting to curl up into a ball and cry.

 


	8. Chapter 8

I decided to go in early the next day to work on my art project in Mr. Way’s secret room. I walked up to the door only to find it already standing open. Gerard was across the room watering his plants. Was he wearing the same clothes as yesterday? They were a little wrinkled, but I could have sworn they were the same.

“Hey Mr. Way, what’s up?”

“Oh Frank, um hey, I didn't see you there. Whatcha doin here so early it’s like, what time is it, anyway?” he glanced at the clock. “Seven fifteen. Oh.” He seemed really out of it, but I had no idea why. I guessed it was none of my business...

“Yeah, I know it’s early. I just came to work on my art project.”

“Oh yeah of course,” He turned to me and smiled, but he wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing and the water that was meant to go on the plants ended up going all over his shirt.

“Oh shit,” he cursed under his breath, realizing what he had done.

“Are you okay, man?” I reached for the towel by the sink and handed it to him.

“To be honest, no. I’m not okay.” Sighing and taking a seat at the closest desk, he motioned for me to do the same. “I’m over-loaded with work because I assigned this stupid project without considering I would have to grade all of it, my brother’s been staying with me since he broke up with his girlfriend last month, and I needed a break, so I slept w- I mean I slept at a friend’s house last night, but my alarm didn’t go off and so I had no time for coffee this morning. I’m just ready for this week to be over. Y’know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean. If you ever need any help with work, I’m here and I mean, that’s kind of my job so...as for everything else, I don’t think I would really be the best person to give advice considering how little of my life I actually have together...”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t bother you with this. This is none of your business. You’re a student. You go work on your art. I’ll just be out here cleaning up if you need me.”

He reached out to put the towel back on the counter and—was that a hickey on his neck? If it was he obviously either hadn't noticed it yet or just didn’t care, both of which seemed a little out of character for him. My heart dropped into my stomach at the sight of it. I was overwhelmed with jealousy. But, why the hell was I jealous? Our relationship wasn’t special. I was just a student. He was my teacher. His life was none of my business. He said so himself.

I went to work on my art, going into the secret special art closet to be alone. I started to set up my stuff, but I couldn’t find my paintbrush, so I opened the door to ask Mr. Way where he kept his and if I could borrow one. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. Mr. Way had taken off his soiled shirt and was rummaging around in his desk, presumably looking for a new one. His body was even more perfect than I had imagined. Thank God he had his back turned to me because I don’t think I could handle being caught staring at my teacher in such an exposed state. Damn, he was hot though. I knew I had to turn around before things got too uncomfortable. Things mainly being my pants…

I decided to just find the paintbrush myself by looking around in the closet. I tried desperately to focus on the work, but I just couldn’t. I thought about Mr. Way the whole time. Who gave him that hickey? Was Jessica right? Did he have a boyfriend? Was it right for me to be lusting after him like this? Was it right for him to be half naked when he knew I could have easily seen him? The questions were endless, but I actually did end up deciding on a course of action. Fuck the right thing. If I wanted him for myself, I would get him.

Before I left that day, I handed him a flyer for my band’s gig.

“Hey, Mr. Way, you said you were really busy with work and you seem really stressed. I just figured, y’know, if you get your work done and you don’t have anything else to do, you could take some time off this weekend and come see my band play. It’s um.. Saturday night. We go on at around 8 so if you want to drop by, that would be cool. Not that it’s like a big deal or anything. Just, whatever.”

“Thanks, I’ll think about. But, Frank, if I do attend, you must know that I simply will not tolerate being called Mr. Way outside of school. It’s Gerard, is that clear?” What he was saying was nice, even friendly, but his tone for some reason was harsh and strict. It scared me, but at the same time it was maybe turning me on just a little.

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, I skipped all the way to my locker, feeling accomplished and confident as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i'm SO sorry it took this long. i have no excuse... i literally had this chapter 90% written for the past 6 months and i just now finished it. oops.... starting college in a month, wish me luck ! and please excuse any typos. my mom is rushing me to go help her with something so i'm not really proofreading


	9. Chapter 9

It was the Friday before Pencey Prep’s first gig and I still didn’t know if Mr. Way would be there or not. To be completely honest, as much as I wanted him there, I was also kind of hoping he wouldn’t show up. I knew it would just make me even more nervous than I already was, although I doubted that was possible.

I had turned in my art project for the week and ended up getting an A on it. I was so excited and grateful to Mr. Way for helping me out that I decided to leave lunch a little early to tell him the good news. But, when I got to his classroom, I saw that he was on the phone. He didn’t notice me and I didn't want to intrude, so I just decided to wait outside the door until he was finished. The thing is I kind of overheard his conversation anyway...

“I feel terrible. Bert’s a nice guy.”

“I know, I know. I just thought maybe being with someone else would help me get my mind off of him.”

“Yes, Mikes. He is.”

“You’re right, I’m being stupid. It’s totally inappropriate.”

Then, at probably the worst moment possible, my body decided that it needed to sneeze. Really loudly. Fuck.

“Hold on a sec.” I heard from the other side of the door. “Hello? Frank, is that you?”

Well, there was no use in hiding now.

“Hey, Mr. Way. I was just waiting until you were off the phone. I didn’t want to interrupt. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” he said, directing his attention back toward his cell. “Sorry Mikey, I gotta go. Frank just walked in.”

There was a pause as whoever was on the other line replied.

“I know. I’ll talk to you later.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. Clearly, the conversation had stressed him out because he seemed glad that it was over.

“So, Frank,” he said with a smile, turning to face me. “What’s up?”

“I got an A on my art project. I don’t think I would have done that well if you hadn’t helped me, so thanks for that.”

“Oh, Frankie that’s great! I’m so proud of you.”

Before I knew what was happening, I was wrapped up in his arms being held close to his chest. I felt so warm as a hugged him back a little bit longer than I should have.

“Come on,” he said, stepping away and heading toward his desk. “We’ve got a shit ton of papers to grade. It’ll get done faster if we each do half.”

I figured I probably shouldn’t ask about the show. If he was there he was there. If not, well it would probably be better that way. I didn't want to get my hopes up just to have them crushed by the reality that he was my teacher and he didn’t care about me as much as a wanted him to. I resigned myself to the fact that he wasn’t coming and I made peace with that truth, savoring the time I did get to spend with him. Even if it was time spent grading papers.

 


End file.
